Of Gods and Mortals, Of Dragons and Men
by Aegis Dragon
Summary: Mathias, while unusual, was just another boy in his village. But he harbored a deadly secret. He didn't share his peoples hatred of dragons. And one day this will change his life. He will be tasked to journey the Archipelago, uniting dragons and humans, and locating the champions of both the human gods, and the dragon gods. Will he be able to succeed in time to stop the coming war?
1. The Beginning of it All

**Couldn't wait as long as I thought I could to get this story out, so here it is. Chapter One.**

The village was wide awake and bustling about. The Blacksmith was continuing his ongoing search for a worthy apprentice. Young warriors were heading out to the training ring to spar. Women and children were out trading for the days supplies. Everything was going about as usual.

A small boy, maybe ten years old, was gazing upon the village with a smile. He was a little on the tall side, with untamed brown hair that stopped above his glimmering gold eyes. These eyes made him unique. They were the mark of his family. No one knows when, but sometime in his ancestors history, a sorcerer married into the family. Since then, a natural sorcerer would born into the family every few generations. The young boys eyes marked him as one such child.

His name was Mathias. He was the son of one of the villages most prominent warriors, Alexander Siggurd. He had originally been shunned for his powers and a few still feared him. But when he showed his aptitude for healing magic, they began to accept him. It was an unspoken rule that you wouldn't be caught dead with him unless you had business though. After all, who wanted to be friends with a freak with unnatural powers? But Mathias didn't care. He liked his solitude.

He had been out in the market looking for the Blacksmith, Arnbjorn. His father told him that it was about time he started giving back to the village, and told him that he'd probably fit in best as a Blacksmith when he grew up. Again, Mathias didn't mind. He was aware that he wasn't built to be a warrior, some people just weren't. But it didn't hurt any less.

As much as he liked solitude, he wanted friends. As much as he knew he wasn't a warrior, he wanted to fight. And nothing ever seemed to go his way.

Still walking through the village square, another sad smile crossed his face. Arnbjorn accepted him without a moments hesitation.

"Ya remind me of meself when I was yer age," he'd said. "Tha only difference was, I wasn't afraid to be unique." That made Mathias genuinely smile. The man didn't seem afraid of him, or disgusted. He seemed genuinely happy to see Mathias.

Mathias was now leaving the square to walk through the woods. He had a dagger with him for protection though. There was no telling when a dragon might decide he was prey.

That was the thing about Mathias' village. They were unique in that they valued brains as much as brawn, and they weren't the only village on their island. But one thing they did have in common, that _all _Viking villages had in common, was one thing. They hated dragons.

Mathias' young inquisitive mind wondered why, though. His village wasn't plagued with raids like the unfortunate villages in the north of the Archipelago. For the most part, the dragons left them alone.

'_So why are we always hunting them?' _he thought.

He continued this train of thought as he walked when he heard a cry. It wasn't a human cry though. It was…

'_A dragon!'_ Mathias started.

All of his instincts, everything his people taught him, told him to run, but the warm spot in his mind soothed him, and lightly pushed him towards the noise.

Mathias was never able to figure out what that warm spot was. But he found out that when he listened to it, it was always right, and something amazing or strange happened. He often theorized that it was his magic speaking to him, but he had no way to test it.

He followed the noise. And what he found made him drop his dagger in sadness and disgust.

It was a baby Night Fury, trapped in a net trap set by his people, brutally mauled by the thin metal that made it.

It was one of Arnbjorn's inventions. The metal wires were so thin, they could almost effortlessly cut through skin. Which meant that a dragon that got caught in it would likely loose it's wings and fins.

Without even thinking, Mathias ran to the hatchling and began to pry the wires off of it, ignoring the fact that his hands could very well be cut to ribbons. But as usually happens during a time like this, his magic acted, forming itself into a small, imponderable layer over his hands, like a glove.

When he was finished, the small hatchling looked up, scared for an instant, then saw his eyes, filled with sadness and concern, and calmed down.

Mathias took this time to observe the poor dragon. It's fins were untouched, likely because the childs body had curled around it to protect it, but it's wings were a bloody mess. The poor hatchling would loose it's wings in a month, and would never fly.

Unless…

Mathias wanted to help the poor Night Fury. He'd never tried healing magic this complex before, but he had to do it. It was at this time that Mathias thanked the gods that he was so much more talented with his healing abilities than anything else he tried with his magic.

He placed his hands over the hatchlings wings. It flinched, but didn't move otherwise. It just looked at Mathias, waiting.

Mathias drew from his magic and pictured the dragons wounds in his mind. As he willed his magic forward, he imagined the wounds being cleansed, then slowly healing, regenerating lost tissue.

The drain he felt was instantaneous, but Mathias closed his eyes and remained conscious from sheer will. When the draining stopped, he opened his eyes. The dragon was looking at it's healthy, pitch black wings in wonder, before looking at Mathias. Then it promptly tackled him and began licking his face.

Mathias lay back laughing at the young Night Furies antics before grabbing it and placed it on the ground. He then looked into it's eyes once more, and saw something he would never forget.

Gratitude. Pure, undiluted gratitude.

It was then that Mathias finally learned. Dragon's weren't the bloodthirsty beasts his people claimed they were.

"We are," he said sadly to himself.

He heard the sound of flapping wings and looked up to see the Night Fury flying away. Then he turned around and walked back to his village.

He had a lot to think about.

**There. I hope you all enjoy it. If you have anything to share, I'm open to creative criticism. But for sanity's sake, don't criticize me just to start a petty argument. That happens to me enough with my brother.**


	2. Accidents Happen

**Exciting news! This is only my first story on the site and already have my first follower! The people who have reviewed and followed the story so far are people I know. Except for this one. I would like to extend my thanks to Saphirabrightscale. My heart soared when I saw the notification. So thank you very much. Now, without further ado, onto the chapter!**

"Gods damn it!"

"What is it now, Arnbjorn?" Mathias sighed.

"The bellows is broken again," Arnbjorn responded. "One of these days, I'm gonna talk to the chief about building me a new forge." He sighed. "You think you could stoke the fires for me?"

Mathias rolled his eyes. Arnbjorn was the only one who seemed to enjoy Mathias' magic. So much in fact, that he's deluded himself into believing that the answer to every little problem is 'magic.' Not that he minded much. It was great to be able to use his gift for other people without being looked at with fear or hatred.

Mathias reached his gauntleted hands towards the forge, closed his eyes, and imagined the flames burning hotter, brighter, and higher. Then he willed his magic into the flames. He was elated when he felt the magic doing his bidding. It'd been four years since he'd healed the young Night Fury, and he still couldn't control elemental magic. Healing has remained his only talent.

"Mathias, enough! Enough!"

Mathias snapped out of his musings and saw the forge fire roaring out of control. In a panic, he tried to use his magic to quench them, only for the flames to get higher.

"Gods damn it, I said _enough_!" Arnbjorn shouted.

"I've told you I can't do the elements!" Mathias shouted back. "But you have to ask me to try it anyway!"

Both of them grabbed buckets and scooped water from the trough to put out the fire. After a few passes, the flames roaring on relentlessly, Arnbjorn stopped and looked at the water in the trough. Then at Mathias. He opened his mouth to ask a question.

"No!" Mathias said. "No, no, no, a thousand times, no! Has this not taught you anything?" he asked, gesturing towards the roaring fire.

"How else are we going to put this fire out?" he asked. "Besides, what's a little water gonna do?"

Mathias was about to protest, but stopped. The flames seemed to be immune to the buckets of water they'd been throwing at it. Besides, Arnbjorn had a point. What could a little trough of water do.

Once again reaching his hands out, he willed his magic towards the water, imagining with all his might a clear picture of the water leaping from the trough and into the flames. He almost panicked when he felt no response, but gladdened when he felt the familiar rush of warm energy down his arms.

"It's working!" Arnbjorn exclaimed.

Of course, that's when everything went wrong.

Mathias felt and influx of energy and the warm feeling in his arms began to turn into a burning sensation. As this happened, Arnbjorn noticed the water in the trough rippling wildly.

"Mathias?" he asked warily. But Mathias wasn't listening. He was trying desperately to stop the searing pain in his arms, when the pain amplified in one large burst before going away. Then the trough exploded. Water flooded everywhere, more than should have been in the trough. When everything settled down, the forge was soaked.

Mathias and Arnbjorn looked at each other, both looking irritated. Then they promptly burst into laughter.

"How many times, old man," Mathias asked amidst his laughter, "have I told you I can't control the elements?"

"The reason I keep asking," Arnbjorn responded, laughing histarically, "is because the results are hilarious!"

They both continued to laugh it up for a little while before calming down.

"Well," Arnbjorn said, "at least it will be easier to convince the chief to build me a new forge."

"Speaking of whom," Mathias stated, looking over his mentors shoulder.

When Arnbjorn turned around, they saw some of the warriors approaching from the hill that the village was situated on, being led by Chief Balinor the Mighty, who looked rather irritated. He looked from them, to the forge, and back to them.

"What happened?" He asked sharply. That was the chief for you. Straight to business. Mathias looked to Arnbjorn to see him opening his mouth. Mathias stepped forward before he could say anything.

'_Your not taking the heat for me this time, old timer,' _he thought.

"The bellows broke, so I tried to stoke the fire with my magic," he stated. He looked to Arnbjorn again to see him shocked and a little put out at being cut off. "I ended up doing the job a little too well." Mathias admitted a bit sheepishly. That was when the villagers began glaring at him. But the chief had the same irritated but otherwise unreadable expression on his face. "So we tried to put out the fire by taking buckets of water from the trough, but that didn't work, so… I tried using my magic… again… and it failed… again."

The villagers had the same glares, and the chief, well, the same unreadable look.

The chief seemed to be stuck in thought for awhile. Then he shocked everyone.

"Accidents happen," he stated. Mathias nearly let his jaw hit the ground, but was thankful he had the self-control to keep it closed in front of the chief. "But you've already admitted before that you had difficulty with that particular branch of your… gift. You shouldn't have tried it. So you'll be stuck working the armory as punishment for a few days until I feel you've learned your lesson." With that, the chief walked away, seemingly oblivious of the stares that the villagers were giving him.

Mathias stood frozen in shock. It always seemed that the chief was indifferent about his magic, but he'd never had any proof until now.

'_Well,' _he thought _'they say you learn something new every day.'_

All of the villagers dispersed until only Mathias' father was left. He looked at Mathias, more exasperated than disappointed.

"You shouldn't have tried to control the elements," Alexander said. "You constantly tell me that they are to volatile. What possessed you to try something so foolish?"

Mathias chuckled silently. This was the godsend of Mathias' life. His father cared for him, loved him, despite his magic, and whereas others would kill him for making a mistake with it, he was scolded as if it was a common household slip up.

"I guess I was just excited when Arnbjorn asked for my help. No one else seems to embrace my magic like he does."

Alexander promptly glared half-heartedly at Arnbjorn, then turned and started the short walk back home. When Alexander was far enough away, Arnbjorn turned and stared accusingly at Mathias.

"You little daemon," he said playfully.

Mathias flashed him a grin before walking towards the forest. Today had been a hectic day. Maybe a long walk could help him sort through his thoughts.


	3. Nightwing

**Here it is, chapter 3. I'm a bit disappointed that this story hasn't gotten much attention, but I'm not giving up. No one got anywhere by quitting after all. But enough of my 'woe is me' moment. On to the story!**

The night sky was clear. The stars were perfectly visible and the landscape shown with an eerie beauty under the light of the full moon. The dew covered trees sparkled beautifully in the moonlight. For a human, it was a great night to hunt. For a dragon, the weather was perfect for a leisurely flight. And that was exactly what one young Night Fury was doing.

Nightwing greatly enjoyed flying, more than the other members of her species. It was what earned her the name she bore with pride. And tonight, she enjoyed it even more so. The weather was perfect, a rarity in the cold, harsh islands that seemed to be plagued with perpetual winter. The breeze was soft, and the updrafts were strong. A dragon could fly for hours in this weather. But sadly, this was not meant to be.

"Nightwing!" A young male voice shouted. She sighed. She knew this voice well. It was her older brother, Shadowclaw, a name he earned for his remarkable stealth skills. Their mother probably sent him to bring her home.

"What are you doing way out here?" he asked. "This is too close to human territory."

"It's the middle of a clear, dark night," she responded irritably, only half paying attention to her brother. "I doubt they'll be able to see me."

"And normally, I'd agree with you. But mom still doesn't want us too close. Besides, you do remember what today is, right?"

Nightwing's ears perked up immediately. How could she forget? This was her fourth hatchday, the day she finally would have her first hunt. Every dragon dreamt of this moment, when they would finally be considered Adolescents and would finally get their first taste of independence. The only thing better was the Coming of Age, when a dragon became old enough to mate and start a family of their own.

"Do you really have to ask?" she asked.

"No," he said. "But it got your attention didn't it?"

As her brother smirked victoriously, she rolled her eyes exasperatedly.

They started searching for prey on the way home, Shadowclaw trying to irritate his sister, Nightwing doing her best to ignore him as she scanned the forest below her, when they caught sight of what they were looking for. Shadowclaw stopped abruptly.

"There," Shadowclaw said quietly, his keen, experienced eyes catching sight of a target before his sister. "See that small herd down there?"

Nightwing focused and looked where her brother gestured, widening her pupils to let in more light so she could see better, when she caught sight of what her brother had spotted seconds ago. A small herd of maybe five deer, consisting of a buck, two does, and a couple of fawns.

"You remember what dad taught us, right?" he asked in a low voice.

She nodded, not saying a word as she contemplated her approach. They were told to always go for a weak doe. Fawns should be left to grow. They didn't much meat on them anyway. Bucks were risky to take down, even for a dragon. Besides, bucks should be left to increase the population.

After calculating her approach, she looked at the does, trying to pick which one to go after. Ultimately, she decided to go for the one on the left, as it seemed to have a lame leg. She folded her wings and angled her body at a steep downwards angle, slowly opening her wings and evening out as she approached. When she got close, she snapped her wings open and flapped them to reduce her speed. When she landed on the does back, she quickly lunged for it's neck and whipped her head to the side, snapping it's neck effortlessly. The other deer seemed stunned for a bit. A second later, and all that was left was rustling grass as they ran for safety.

"Nice kill," her brother stated as he landed near her. "Your dive was a little sloppy, but I guess that's to be expected because… well… you know."

Nightwing nodded solemnly. She didn't need to be reminded.

"You do realize you have to carry it back though, right?" he said, smiling.

For what seemed like the tenth time that day, she groaned.

* * *

"How did it go?" Their mother asked as they returned, looking at the deer her daughter brought with her.

"Great," her son responded before Nightwing could answer. "She was almost perfect, all things considered."

Aurora nodded silently. She knew what Shadowclaw was referring to.

"Where's dad?" Shadowclaw asked.

"He's went to speak to Mother Nyra about the humans. As much as we all would like to admit otherwise, something needs to be done about the ruthless killing of our kind."

Shadowclaw nodded sadly. Every dragon hated when it came to this. Hundreds of years ago, humans and dragons were allies, friends. The dragons taught humans about war craft and battle, how to hold their own in a fight. The humans taught them philosophy and art, and the beauty that could be found in life. They had such a close relationship that they could even communicate to each other. It seemed as if nothing could tear the two species apart. But something happened to the humans that made them turn on the dragons. Now it's as if the humans don't even remember their history with them.

"I don't understand why they keep attacking us," he said. "It's as if they've never had any friendship with us. They all want us dead."

"Not all of them," Nightwing corrected.

Shadowclaw and Aurora both looked at her, and directed their attention to the grey scars that criss-crossed her wings, as they remembered the story that she had told them three years ago, when she came home after having been stuck in a human trap for a whole day.

"No," Aurora agreed, as she silently sent her thanks to the human that had somehow saved her daughter. "Not all of them."

**Well guys, R&R. And bother asking who Mother Nyra is. I'm not giving anything away. All you need to know is that it will be explained in due time.**


	4. Elements

**Ugh. This chapter did _not _want to be written. It was a long, hard battle, but I finally got it out. Let's just hope I can win the war.**

The next night, Mathias walked back home through the woods. It was a beautiful night, just like last night, which meant that both humans and dragons would be out. Luckily, the dragons have learned over the years to stay away from the village because of the traps, so he didn't come across any.

As he walked home, he contemplated the accident. His magic had never acted that way before. And the warm spot in the back of his mind had raged along with his magic. It was almost like it was… punishing him for doing something wrong.

Shaking the thoughts away, he came to the village and headed straight to his house. The villagers all gave him glares of varying intensity, but he ignored them. He was used to it by now.

When he finally arrived at his house, he went straight to his room and dropped onto his bed in exhaustion. Today had been a long, frantic day, and he would welcome sleep with open arms when it came for him. Then his father came in.

"Where have you been," Alexander asked.

"Same as always," Mathias answered, not even looking up, "just wandering the woods."

"Please tell me you brought a weapon with you," Alexander said in exasperation.

Mathias held up a strange curved sword that he'd made using blueprints he got from a trader from the south. "The dragons usually pay me no mind anyways."

Alexander sighed. He loved his son, but he had a bit of rebelliousness that was probably brought upon by his need to get away from the village. He walked over to his son's bed and just sat. After awhile, Mathias sat up and looked at the fireplace across the room. Alexander knew exactly what he was thinking.

"You know," Alexander said, after much thought, "your… your grandmother, on your mothers side… she used to say that the elements had minds of their own. You can't just command them, you have to tell them what you want, ask permission to use them…" he stopped. He didn't resent his son's gifts, but that didn't mean he was comfortable talking about them.

Mathias, meanwhile, was shocked, something that seemed to be happening a lot today. Without saying anything, he dashed outside, leaving his father confused at what had happened. _'I can't _believe _I missed something so _obvious,' he thought. Every time he tried using the elements, he hadn't gone about it like with his healing magic, gently coaxing the magic to do his bidding. He instead forced his magic over the subject and attempted total control. The burning sensation in his arm _wasn't_ his magic, it was the element _fighting back._

Mathias closed his eyes and reached for his magic as it singed in his presence. Then he expanded his senses to the air around him. But instead of controlling the air, he gently nudged it, pointing it in the direction he wanted it to go. He felt the air swirling about his arm, grinning in excitement as he thrust his arm forward and a blade of pure wind sliced straight through the tree in front of him.

"Finally!" he shouted not caring the least bit if anyone heard him. He had finally discovered how to control the elements.

* * *

The next morning, several miles away from the village, a few Night furies woke up from a restful nights sleep. Aurora woke up and looked across the cave to see her mate, Skytalon, waking up with her.

_ 'He must have arrived while we were asleep,'_ she thought, and looked to her two children, still fast asleep. She turned to her mate.

"What did Mother Nyra have to say," she asked.

"She wasn't there," he answered. "But Father Nexus was."

Aurora sighed. "I suppose he wouldn't make a decision without his mate," She thought aloud, a statement, not a question.

"If the stories of ancient times are anything to go by, they never make a decision unless the other is present."

Aurora and Skytalon both walked to the edge of the cave, overlooking the forest. Before Aurora thought of something.

"Where _is_ Mother Nyra?" she asked curiously.

Skytalon sighed. "No one is sure. Even Father Nexus seemed unsure. It seems that she left without informing anyone of where she was going."

Aurora looked out to the forest, worried. "I hope she's alright. The last thing we need is for Mother Nyra to die."

* * *

Meanwhile, in the forest north of the village

A white dragoness was running through the forest, panting with each step. She was greatly weakened by the fight that had ensued minutes before. Any other day, she would stand and fight, but these humans had gotten the drop on her, which was extremely difficult for any being to claim. She continued running until she game across a rock ledge barring her way. And her wings were bound by the net she'd recently escaped from.

_ 'Damn,' _Nyra thought to herself. If she hadn't come looking for that human that all of her children had been talking about, who had the mysterious ability to heal by accessing her domain, magic. She got caught in one of the traps when she got too close to the village. When she finally managed to free herself, a human hunting party had come.

She turned around and saw the humans approaching her. She couldn't let them catch her. Not when her children needed her the most. She concentrated on the earth itself, pushing some of her vast reserves of magic into it and asked it to protect. As all of the elements did, it responded to her without hesitation.

Just as the humans came upon her, the earth itself protested their relentless hunt with rage unseen. Vine's from the trees snapped out and suspended a few, the earth shattered as rocks and debris exploded forth, blasting them back. Only the leader remained. After shaking away the shock, he raised his sword and charged. Nyra didn't even move as a large spine erupted from the earth and impaled the man through the chest, before retracting and letting his bloody form fall to the ground in a soulless heap.

Nyra looked at her and the earths work with sad satisfaction. She hated harming humans, but sometimes there was no other choice. She walked along the wall until she came across a natural cave, then went in and lied down. She wouldn't be able to heal these wounds on her own. All she could do is hope that someone would find her. So she prayed to her old friend, Odin, that the human she'd heard so much about truly existed, and that he would send the child to her.


	5. The White Dragon

**Ok, this chapter was easier to write, but I'm starting to get into territory where I run out of details, so I can't promise that the next chapters will be out at my usual speed.**

Mathias woke up in the morning with a grin on his face, still excited from having finally found the secret of the elements yesterday. He went through his usual morning routine, stretching his muscles, taught from inactivity during sleep, and getting into his day-to-day clothes. Afterwards, he cooked himself a light breakfast, since his father was up early to train the new warriors. It was life as usual. When he got out of the house, he began walking towards the armory. He wasn't looking forward to it.

This would be his first day of punishment, since yesterday he was busy cleaning out and helping demolish the remains of the old forge. Working in the armory wasn't hard, but it was boring and tedious, which is why no one wanted to do it. It essentially entails sharpening _every_ weapon in the village, before polishing them, and then renewing the reinforcements of _all _of the shields. And often, this took all day. But someone had to do this job, so often, either one of the older, retired warriors did the job, or it was used as punishment.

And Mathias was the unlucky sod who was going to do the job for _three days_.

Mathias walked to the armory, and opened the door, glaring angrily and mournfully at the _dozens_ of swords, axes spears, maces, clubs, and hammers that lined the walls, with equally as many shields adjacent to each of them. He let out a long sigh and grabbed a claymore of the rack and set about sharpening it. Might as well start so the torturous work could end sooner.

* * *

Mathias groaned. It had taken him all day to sharpen and polish every weapon and check the reinforcements on all of the shields. On the bright side, being a blacksmiths apprentice and having made many of the shields and weapons in the armory, he was able to get the job done faster than normal, which meant, unlike others who'd done the job, he was able to take a break for lunch and dinner and still have enough time to finish.

Mathias walked towards his home with aching, protesting muscles, and a screaming back, sore from hunching over the many weapons and shields. He couldn't wait to go home and get in bed, where he might get some relief from the pain.

Just as Mathias reached his house, he felt the warm spot in his mind, his magic, spark to life. This time it seemed to nudge him into the forest. But he wasn't just being pushed. It felt like something was… calling him. His magic clarified, and somehow, he understood. Someone needed his help.

He began to walk through the woods, wondering who it would be that needed his help. Part of him doubted that it could be a dragon, because so few of them came anywhere near the village anymore. But another part of him protested. It could very easily be a hatchling, a child, who had wandered too far from it's families nest. With that thought, he looked up, as if hoping to see that same Night Fury from so long ago flying overhead. Then he looked down and sighed. It's not as if he'd recognize it if he _did _see it. With that, he trekked on.

In about thirty minutes, he had gotten farther from the village than he'd ever been before. He'd been out for longer periods of time before, but that time was spent patrolling the borders of the village. This was almost a mile out, beyond where the villages traps were. He debated turning back, thinking that maybe he missed something, but his magic spurned him onwards, assuring him that everything was fine and he was going the right direction. So he continued walking. When he came across what he'd been looking for, he stopped in both awe in horror.

Lying on the ground beside a cliff face was a _beautiful _pure white dragon that looked almost like a Night Fury, but larger, with smoother features and spines at the end of each 'finger' that held the wing together. But what he saw next horrified him. A deep gash on the beast's side, caked with dried blood. It was still breathing, but form the looks of things, it didn't have long.

He rushed over to it's side and pushed his magic into the dragons wounds to inspect the damage. From what he could gather, the wound was dealt by a broadsword, and a few harmless scratches on it's wings probably meant that it was caught in some sort of net. If what he saw was anything to go by, the dragon had somehow escaped, but had been discovered by whoever had set the trap, which was how it got the sword wound.

He started at the beginning of his usual routine, first healing the small scratches the peppered the beast's wings. Then he cleansed the wound with his magic. But after that, he paused. This wound was more serious than anything he'd dealt with before. Sure, mangled wings were pretty serious, but it was all leathery skin and connective tissue. This wound cut through scales, skin, sinew, muscle, and even cleaved through bone. Whoever made this injury was clearly a very strong, very seasoned warrior.

As Mathias sat there contemplating what to do, Nyra had woken up. She felt the irritating stinging on her wings and fins suddenly vanish. She froze. The only thing that could heal wounds like that was magic, and it certainly wasn't her magic doing this. She slowly opened her eyes to get a glimpse at whoever seemed to be responsible for her wounds healing. She tried to keep her shock from making itself known when she saw a human sitting beside her looking baffled, seeming to concentrate on something.

'_This must be the human my children keep telling me about,'_ she thought to herself. She continued watching the .

Mathias continued contemplating, when he looked over to see the dragon awake staring right at him with what could only be described as a curious look on it's face. Mathias would've backed away, but his magic spoke up, saying that there was nothing to fear from this dragon. In fact, from what he felt, Mathias would say that his magic was practically drawn to this dragon, like a child drawn to it's parents. So he continued to contemplate. The he found his answer.

Two years ago, he came across and injured Nightmare, with wounds on it's wings similar to the young Night Fury from when he was ten. But he had already healed another dragon just before and his magic was exhausted, so instead, he reached out the Nightmare's own dormant magic and nudged it to heal it's master. And it did. So if he could do that to a dragon with a little dormant magic, it should be too difficult to do the same for a dragon that magic seemed drawn to.

Mathias reached his magic into the white dragon in front of him. What he found nearly floored him. This dragon had _oceans_ of active magic, endless chasms, valleys, and streams _overflowing_ with it. This kind of magical power should burn out and destroy any being that held it, but this dragon was practically _made_ of magic, possessing power that could easily be akin to the gods. He communicated his intent, the desire to heal the dragon in front of him, and nudged the endless pool. It responded. Magic practically flooded towards the wound, healing it in almost the blink of an eye, repairing the bones, rebuilding the muscle and tissue, regrowing the skin and scales, healing so much that there wasn't even any scar tissue left.

When the work was finished, Mathias stood and began to walk away. But the grass grappled his foot gently, pulling back a bit, but not enough to trip him. He turned back to see the dragons golden eyes glowing slightly before dimming. Then it looked into his own similarly colored eyes. Then Mathias felt the strangest thing. It was as if a bridge was being built between him and the dragon, a connection being formed, and his magic was practically _singing_ as an alien presence entered his mind.

'_Thank you,' _a powerful, deep, feminine voice came within his mind.

It took all of Mathias' will to stay upright at his shock. Somehow, someway, he knew that it was the dragon that just spoke to him.

"Not a problem," he muttered, before turning and walking away as he started going over what had just happened.

Nyra smiled as the young human walked away. He was everything her children claimed him to be, a kind being that held no hatred for them. And now she owed him her life. So she made a vow to herself. As soon as she was able, she would watch over this child. If the raids in the north were what she thought they were… she would need this boys help in the near future. He could very well be pivotal in the war to come. The earth could very well be destroyed. But this boy… this boy could save it.

**Within this chapter are a few hints to help you figure out who Nyra is. Care to guess? Just post your answer in a review and I'll tell you if your right.**


	6. Nexus and Nyra

**Sorry for getting this out a day late. I had auditions today for a local chorus and yesterday, a had a crap ton of work to do for my Livestock Production class. Anyways, those of you using an iPad or a Desktop may notice the cover for the story. That lovely piece of art, sketched by my friend Neeko96, is a depiction of a dragon of my creation that will appear in this story. Neeko96 is a great artist and a fantastic author. You should read her story, Rise of the Dragon Riders, where an altered version of Mathias is featured as an OC companion to Hiccup. You should also visit her DeviantArt page. The link is in her bio. Now, enough honorable mentions. On to the chapter!**

Mathias was walking home, still pondering what had happened in the forest. Who was that dragon? How did it speak to him? Why had it gotten close enough to the village to trigger a trap when all the other dragons seemed to learn to stay away? He had so many questions and no way to answer them. So with nothing but questions on his mind, he trekked onward.

When he finally got to his house, he headed straight to his room, not even acknowledging his father when he was greeted. When he got to his room, he closed the door and bolted it shut. He didn't want his father walking in on him.

He walked to the desk by the window and pulled out the drawer, then removed the false bottom. Inside the drawer were several leather bound books. Theses were Mathias' journals. He'd been making them since he was nine years old. He had put everything in them, including his experiences with dragons.

Mathias grabbed a quill and inkwell and began to write about the days events. He paused when he got to the white dragoness. After writing down what happened, he pondered once more just who, or what, this dragon was. So he started listing things off. By it's physique, it looked to be akin to the Night Fury, but there were some very obvious differences that made it distinctly different, such as it's bulkier, more land based physical structure. Far different from a Night Fury's more lithe and slender air based form. Secondly, it had the ability to use it's own magic. He knew that from the fact that it seemed to use it's magic to communicate with him. Which brought him to the third thing on the list: it's magic. It had _huge _reserves of magic, the size of which he hadn't seen in any dragon he'd come across before. It's powers were so unrivaled, so vast, it couldn't be mortal. A being with that kind of power had to be…

His eyes widened as he stopped his thoughts there. The same thought he'd had in the clearing when he was healing the dragoness.

Akin to the gods.

_That_ was his biggest clue. That was where he'd find his answer.

* * *

A white dragon was pacing to and fro far to the northwest of the village. Unlike Nyra, this dragon bore no resemblance to the Night Furies. He more represented a Skrill, possessing most of the same qualities but, like Nyra, appeared to be more land based.

_ "It's been days now,"_ Nexus thought worriedly. _"Where could she be?"_

He continued pacing back and forth, fretting over the disappearance of his mate, when he heard the trees outside his home rustling. Crouching low and preparing for an attack, he snaked over to the entranced and observed the forest with a sharp eye. He nearly shot a fireball when he saw movement in front of him, but relaxed when he saw that it was his mate, Nyra. He ran over and nuzzled her

"Where have you been?" he asked worriedly. "I was starting to think you wouldn't come back."

Nyra remained silent for a while, not wanting her mate to worry more than he already was. But they had always had a reputation of never keeping secrets from one another, and for good reason. They never liked hiding anything from the other. So she told him everything. Before she told him of her escape, Nexus interrupted, looking more concerned than before.

"How did you escape," He asked.

"I was getting to that," she said in a reprimanding tone. She continued her story. When she finally finished, Nexus sat in shocked silence.

"So everything that our children have been telling us," he said in a quiet tone, "it's all true. There's a human that's been healing the."

Nyra nodded. "And I owe him my life," she stated solemnly.

Nexus chuckled. "And to think," he stated with amusement, "I thought Skytalon's daughter was being foolish."

"Who, now?"

Nexus looked to his mate. "A Night Fury came by earlier expressing concern for the humans in a nearby village that have been hunting our children," He explained, before smiling at his mate and saying, "A village that you apparently got too close to."

Nyra had the decency to look sheepish.

"I told him that we should wait for you before making a decision," Nexus continued, "so we sat and waited for a while. Eventually, conversation turned to a story her daughter, Nightwing, had told him when she was a hatchling. Apparently, after having been missing for over a day, she came back with scars on her wings, telling of how she had been caught in some human trap, a net that tore her wings to near shreds, and how a young human had freed her and healed her wings." Nexus paused for a while. "I had thought it was just an amusing story of a young dragons imagination."

Nyra smiled at her mate. "Apparently it was not," she said.

Nexus looked to the sky, the setting sun reflecting brilliantly off his scales. "No," he said, deep in thought, "I guess it wasn't."

They sat in silence for a little while before Nyra spoke up. "I think he's the one," she said suddenly.

Nexus stiffened immediately, his eyes widened in shock. "You don't mean-"

"I do," Nyra interrupted before he finished. "Think about it. He is seemingly the only human from his village that not only holds no hatred for dragons, but goes out of his way to help them. And he heals them by accessing _my _domain. By using magic."

Nexus sat in silence, pondering this new information. Then he looked to Nyra. "Are you sure?"

She pondered the question for a little while, before shaking her head slowly. "I'm going to observe him for now," she said.

Nexus was on all fours before she could blink. "Absolutely not!" He exclaimed. "You nearly got killed today! What happens if that human isn't there to save you this time?"

"They caught me off guard," she said, eyes downcast. "And… I got arrogant. I wasn't looking hard enough for traps and that resulted in me being ensnared in one of the most obvious ones." She looked into Nexus' eyes. "But I will _not_ be captured again," she stated with finality. She paused before continuing. "Besides, if he's who I think he is…"

"The others are sure to follow," Nexus finished. After what seemed like hours of internal mental debating, he sighed. "Please be careful," he pleaded in a low voice.

Nyra smiled warmly and nuzzled her mate. "I will."

**Once again, feel free to review and guess who, or more percisely, what Nyra and Nexus are. I will reply via PM to inform you if you are right.**


	7. Visitors from the North

**Yet _another_ chapter that just _did not_ want to be written. Not to mention I was busy with schoolwork on Monday, and my brother hijacked the computer yesterday. But I was hellbent on getting this chapter out today and indeed I did. Now, I have to go and tend to a brainfreeze I got from eating five popsicles in a row. So enjoy the chapter.**

"Agh! Damn it!" Mathias exclaimed as some embers from the forge fire leapt up and stung his face. He hastily reached his magic out and coaxed the flames to calm down. They did so immediately.

Mathias smiled. Two years of training after learning the secrets of the elements and he'd finally mastered them. Well, not exactly mastered. As he discovered, there were such things as affinities when it came to elements and he was no exception. He was particularly capable at commanding the elements of Air and Fire. The Earth would occasionally obey him, but Water was often rebellious. He and Water seemed almost like polar opposites. That was probably why he had had such a painful reaction to trying to command water in the forge two years ago.

Mathias looked into the otherwise empty forge and his mood saddened immediately. His teacher, Arnbjorn, had passed away. And not from a glorious fight to the death or a battle against unbelievable odds either. Arnbjorn merely passed of old age. And he was none too happy about it.

_ "The only thing that's pissing me off more than your crying,"_ he'd said to Mathias on his deathbed, _"is the fact that I can't fight this like I can any human or dragon. Unbelievable. I'm going down without a fight because there's nothing _to _fight."_ He paused. Then he let out a long sigh. _"I suppose I should consider this an achievement,"_ he'd said. _"After all, how many Vikings do you hear about that have survived long enough to die of old age. Certainly that should get me a place in Valhalla. Ha ha!"_

Mathias smiled sadly. Those had been Arnbjorn's last words. And Mathias had been the only one to here them. Somehow, Mathias always thought that Arnbjorn had planned it like that.

After the village had mourned the loss of their blacksmith, they'd turned to Mathias to fill the empty space. As much as they disliked him, they acknowledged that he'd had skill at blacksmithing. Some would even argue that he'd inherited a touch of the master smith's creativity.

Mathias snapped out of his musings and went back to work. Visitors from the north were coming. It had been many generations since _any _village from the north had sent envoys to meet with them. And these envoys supposedly came from one of the more unfortunate villages, one that had been raided more than any others. But rumor was that, two years ago, the raids just stopped. Not a lot of information has been revealed, as the northern villages had been secretive as to what happened. But it seemed that someone had somehow stopped the raids.

Mathias went back to the blades he was working on. A warrior from the north had seen his own blades and wanted to see how they worked for him. The chief said he might as well make another pair, as a gesture of goodwill between them and the visitors. But folding the steel was taking longer than expected. But then again, he'd had Arnbjorn's help when he made his own.

Thinking about Arnbjorn made him frown again.

"Hey, what are you doing to the steel?"

Mathias again snapped out of his musings and turned to face the speaker. He was a teenager about Mathias' age, with auburn hair and emerald green eyes. He seemed to be built with the same skinny structure as Mathias.

_ 'He must be from the north,"_ Mathias thought. It was the only explanation as to why this boy didn't seem familiar. "I'm folding it," he replied, before getting back to work.

"Why?" the stranger asked.

"Makes the steel stronger," Mathias said, not looking up from his work.

"How is that?" the stranger asked with obvious curiosity in his voice.

Mathias finally finished the folding and went to cool it, opting to not use his magic in front of an outsider. "The blade is single edged," Mathias began to explain, "which means the one side is for dealing damage, and the other is for blocking." He gestured down to the now cooled off blade. "When properly folded, the blade is razor sharp, capable of cutting through practically anything, while also being strong. It's even been reported that the blade can slice straight through other swords made through the usual method. And yet…" He looked to the stranger and smiled. "It won't chip, or stain, or sustain damage. Ever."

The stranger looked at him with a gaping mouth. Mathias understood. He'd reacted much the same when the trader who gave him the blueprints told him that.

The stranger looked at Mathias with ever more curiosity. "Aren't you a bit… young… to be the blacksmith?"

Mathias frowned at that, before bringing the blade over to the worktable and working on the hilt, his right side facing the curious northerner. "My… teacher… died a couple of months ago. Since I was his only apprentice, I was chosen to take his place." He turned to the stranger. "Got a problem with that?" He asked, in a joking manner.

The stranger didn't even laugh. He just winced. "Sorry," he said. "I… I couldn't imagine what I would feel if Gobber were to… pass." He said.

Now it was Mathias' turn to look at him curiously. "Who's Gobber," he asked.

The stranger smiled. "He's _my _teacher. He taught me everything I know about blacksmithing, but I've never learned about the method your using."

Mathias smiled at him. "That's because it's not a well known method. It's practitioners are native to lands to the far southeast of the Archipelago." He reached his hand out to the stranger. "Mathias Siggurd."

The stranger grasped his hand and shook it with a smile on his face. "Hiccup. Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the third."

**How many of you can honestly say you were expecting me to do that? Because believe me, I've got plenty more surprises to give you. So, the guessing game for what Nyra and Nexus are is still open. And no one is trying their luck. Who's gonna be the first?**


	8. Rite of Passage

**I am _so _sorry. This week has been more busy than usual. I've been job hunting for a while and that's kept me busy. Not to mention my teachers thought that packing a months worth of projects into a single week would be a great way to review for the finals, and yesterday I was at church packing Health Kits, so... yeah. I've been busy. But luckily, it's almost summer! Which means I will soon be free to write much faster and post much sooner. But until then, enjoy this chapter!**

**Oh! And I can't believe I've been forgetting to do this.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing you do not recognize that has not been previously mentioned to have been owned by me.**

Nightwing crept low through the tall grass, eyeing her prey with determination. This was the final Rite of Passage, the tradition that all dragons followed, that marked her final step into adulthood. Similarly, this Rite involved hunting. But this time, she wasn't allowed to fly, or use her fire. And this time, the prey fought back.

She slowly lifted her head above the grass. The bear she was tracking was only a few meters in front of her, back facing her. Now to contemplate her approach. Bears killed by brute force, a dangerous thing for a Night Fury, as they are built with a lightweight skeletal frame for easy flight, one of the reasons Night Furies were so skilled at aerial maneuvers. But that meant that physical shock could break or at least fracture their bones more easily than most other dragons.

In the end, she decided that keeping her distance would be best, which meant she'd have to use hit-and-run tactics to wear it down before going in for the kill.

She stalked closer to the bear, before leaping and raking her claws across it's back, and landing a safe distance away.

The bear gave and outraged roar and began frantically searching for the offender, before settling it's eyes on Nightwing and charging.

'_Great,' _she thought to herself, _'now for the hard part.'_

She waited until the bear was only a few feet from her before leaping to the side and striking it's face with her rear claws, propelling herself to the side. But the bear saw this coming. Ignoring the pain, it changed it's course and charged. Just as Nightwing turned to face it again, it raised it's claw in preparation for a crushing blow. Nightwing dodged to the side, but the bear was prepared and swiped it's other claw to the side in a backhand motion with enough force to knock her back. As she lay on the ground, the bear towered over her on it's hind legs, preparing to crush her. In the nick of time, Nightwing rolled to the side and jumped on the bears back. The bear began thrashing wildly, trying to throw her off. When she finally got a solid hold on the bear, she reached her claws down and raked them across it's throat. The bear fell, gagging for a few seconds, before it lay still.

Nightwing jumped off and looked at her kill. _'Well,' _she thought, _'not how I planned it, but it worked.'_ She began to check her body for injuries she might have missed during the fight, and scowled at a small gash that ran down her left side. _'Must've gotten it when it swiped at me,'_ she thought. She looked up and into the open plains, to the forest off in the distance, then to her left, at the small mountains to the north, where her home lay, and sighed. If this had been like any other Rite of Passage, her family would be there to congratulate her for her success. But her parents had died. And her brother left.

It had happened two years ago. While the village to the south of them always relied more on traps than anything, the other villages seemed to actively hunt them. And it had just been getting worse and worse. Her parents had left for one last plea to Mother Nyra and Father Nexus to do something, but they never returned. After the sun had set several ours later, she and Shadowclaw went looking for them. They didn't like what they saw. From the looks of things, they had been ambushed by a human hunting party while they were trekking through the forest on foot. The humans had killed them both, took some of their scales, and left them just rotting there. Nightwing was beside herself with sadness for the longest time, but it was nothing compared to Shadowclaw's reaction. He wasn't just sad. He was pissed. He couldn't believe that the humans had the audacity to do something so monstrous. But like many before him, he couldn't bring himself to retaliate. So, like many before him, he left. He said he would journey far to the north, where there were fewer humans. He had promised that he'd come back and visit her. He never did.

Nightwing let a small tear fall down her face and onto the ground before straightening up. She needed to tend to the wound. She took a closer look at it. It wasn't too severe, and it wasn't causing her too much pain, but that was probably due to how much energy was still running through her body. That meant she had a limited window of time to heal the wound before the pain interfered with her concentration. Nightwing closed her eyes and focused, calling out to her magic. Her mother had first taught her how to use it several days before her first hunt. And like all other times before, her magic rushed to greet her. She gently directed it to her wound, concentrating on what she wanted to do. She felt the magic start to cleanse the wound before getting to work on repairing the damage. It was going well until she felt a spike of pain from the wound, and her grasp on her magic faded. She growled in irritation and looked at the gash again. She'd managed to get most of it healed before she lost control. Now the gash looked like a small scrape. It would heal on it's own in time.

With a final glance at her kill, she spread her wings and flew off, looking for prey that was more edible… and far less dangerous.

**The guessing game for what Nyra and Nexus are is still open, and I've had a couple of good guesses, but sadly, none are correct. What do you think? Review your answer, and I will PM you if you are correct.**


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